


Hank Finds Connor (and saves him)

by altalemur



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hank has feelings, Public Enemy Chapter (Detroit: Become Human), Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 23:49:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15896637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altalemur/pseuds/altalemur
Summary: When Hank thinks he has enough to handle when it comes to androids and existential questions, Connor getting into mortal peril adds a new layer of feelings on top of the shitsandwich of Hank's life. Scene rewrite for Public Enemy chapter.





	Hank Finds Connor (and saves him)

Hank was aware that Connor was investigating in the break room. That’s where the service androids were being stored until they figured things out. Hank let Connor do his android hound dog routine while Hank talked to the actual humans.

 

Not that Hank expected to find any evidence that will lead them to these deviant androids. It’s obvious they had planned everything very carefully. And they hadn’t hurt anyone, so there went Hank’s motivation for finding and capturing them. No, what Hank actually wants to figure out from this crime scene is more about all these deviant androids, some collective motivation or group. This was the first lead they’d had that this was something a lot bigger happening with androids, aside from this mysterious rA9 figure. 

 

Something new, organized, and maybe accumulative was happening with the androids. Every one of these deviants was shaking up what Hank thought he knew about androids. Question was, were the androids going Terminator, or something more MLK? Or were the androids being hacked by Russia or Cyberlife itself, in some sort of cyber terrorism? At least going by the android on the screen’s speech, hopefully it was more MLK. 

 

Hank glanced back at the central screen where the skinless android’s face was still displayed. In his peripheral vision, he saw someone leave the break room. Good. Hank was done talking to people, and sick of Perkins trying to piss him off. But fuck it, it wasn’t Connor. It was another android.

 

That didn’t seem right. Where was Connor? Hank’s hand reached toward his sidearm. He walked toward the break room entrance, and toward the service android. The android noticed Hank’s approach, and Hank gripped his gun. Their gazes met, and Hank could see the panic in the android’s eyes. A deviant.

 

Before either could do anything, there was a pained gasp and a clatter in the break room. Hank glanced away at the noise, and the android bolted. 

 

“Fuck!”

 

Hank’s pulling out his gun, but there was a voice from the kitchen.

 

“Hank…” Connor. The kid’s calling for him in the kitchen. And that deviant android is going to get away. Hank doesn’t have to put a second thought to it. He runs into the kitchen. Connor is on the ground, and there’s blue blood all around him. Hank can see the kid reaching out for something tubular and glowing blue on the ground.

 

“Connor!”

 

Hank rushes to Connor’s side, turning him over. Holy shit, Connor’s chest is a mess. His shirt is ripped open, he’s covered in blue blood, and there’s a fucking hole in Connor’s chest. Hank focuses on that hole, and presses against it with his hand, but an android’s chest can’t compress to stop blood flow the way flesh can. Blood flows around Hank’s hand. 

 

Connor’s still weakly reaching for that thing on the floor, while quietly straining to say Hank’s name. Hank doesn’t need it spelled out more than that. He grabs the thing. It does look like an android part.

 

“Jesus. What the fuck do I do with this?” Hank brings it closer to Connor’s chest.

Connor’s weak and getting weaker. His hand tries to grip Hank’s and pull him toward the hole in the android’s chest. Right. Just shove a piece of delicate technology into a bleeding hole in Connor’s chest. Why didn’t Hank think of that. 

 

There’s no handy “this way up” or alignment markings on the thing, and Hank isn’t sure how it should be put in. Well fuck, Connor doesn’t have much time, if he can’t just put it back himself. Praying that he doesn’t just end up fucking up Connor more than he is already, Hank shoves the piece in. It seems to catch a bit, and then slides along grooves that twist it into place the rest of the way.

 

As soon as the part clicked into place, Connor gasped and jolted in Hank’s arms. It was like how a human would react to a suddenly not drowning. In the detective part of his mind, he wondered who the hell would design an android to be That human-like in reaction - his computer didn’t gasp and jump when it was rebooted. But the rest of Hank was holding onto Connor as his fingers twitched and his body shook until his eyes gained focus again.

 

“Th*the  deviant,” Connor said. And it sounded like there was desperation in that glitching voice. What the fuck even was this, anymore? Connor tried to get to his feet while he obviously didn’t have full control yet.

 

“The bastard already got away. Sit your ass down and don’t hurt yourself.” Hank’s voice was gruff and he was glad of it.

 

“I can’t let it get away!” Connor pushes against the floor, trying to get up. But it’s just enough force to put pressure against the hands Hank’s keeping Connor down with. If Hank didn’t know that androids were programmed to not use force against humans, Hank would think Connor was putting up just enough resistance to say he tried to perform his duties. (And wasn’t that most what it seemed like was happening with the kid? With how closely they monitored him, but how often he was letting deviants get away?)

 

At any rate, Hank pushed harder against Connor’s shoulders, keeping him lying on the ground and across Hank’s lap.

 

“Shut up and stay down, you stubborn prick. I said he’s already gone. Just… “ Hank said. He waved his hand, trying to figure how to get an android to practice self-care after getting an organ ripped out. 

 

“Are you all right? Fuck what’s the techno term? Just run a diagnostic and tell me if you need more repairs. Fuck, you looked like you were on death’s fucking door.”

 

Connor lay back. His LED cycled blue and yellow. Hank knew that was a good change from the blinking red it was a minute ago. 

 

“I have sustained a laceration through my left hand, as well as minor tearing around the seal of my thirium pump, due to a knife and forced removal of my thirium pump, respectively. There is superficial damage to my exterior thoracic chassis. Thirium levels at 70%. My self repair should be able to handle most of the damage, except for structural damage in my hand. Self repair commencing and will finish in half an hour. I am still able to continue with the investigation until a convenient time occurs for a thorough repair and cleaning.”

 

“Oh no. We are done here.” Hank wants to rub his hands over his face and hair to express some of the stress he’s feeling, but his hands are covered in blue blood; Connor’s blood. 

 

Hank hadn’t really cared about seeing blue blood before; about on par with seeing spilled laundry detergent. But now it was giving Hank a visceral twist and pull that a rookie Hank would get when he saw red blood, before he’d gotten so damn used to corpses and crimson splashed all over crime scenes. And Connor’s blood was all over the place. Hank needed to get out of this place before he threw up.

 

Hank got up on slightly shaky feet. Fuck his knees (and fuck this vertigo). He gave Connor a hand up without considering whether the kid needed it or not, at least physically. Whether the android knew it or not, Connor needed to know he was supported. Hank scoffed at himself. Either androids were coming alive, or Hank was going full blown delusional.

 

Hank walked over to the break room sink. They both needed to clean up, even if the blue blood would evaporate eventually. Connor got the idea once Hank was done washing his own hands off. The android did what he could to fix his appearance, but that shirt was ruined from ripped buttons.

 

“Let’s get you blue blood and get me some stiff drinks.” Hank knows they should - ~~go home~~ \- get out of there.

 

“Drinking high proof alcohol is detrimental to your health.” Connor argued, but he followed Hank out of the building.

 

“Watching you nearly getting killed is bad for my health. You ever fucking think about not doing that?”

 

Connor hesitated, and seemed to think over what to say. “In the future, I will do my best not to be severely damaged.”

 

“Good. Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Dork-Empress for a couple of suggestions for this story.


End file.
